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Let's Talk About Death
episode • Insight • Current Affairs • 52m
episode • Insight • Current Affairs • 52m
At just three weeks of age, I was diagnosed with cystic fibrosis, a genetic illness in which a defective gene affects the lungs, pancreas, and other organs.
My parents recall the early months of my life as being quite a contrast.
They say on one hand, it's the most joy and love you've ever experienced, and on the other, you're being told that the love and joy may not last long at all.
Brad credits his outlook to his parent's positivity regardless of his diagnosis. Source: SBS
The moment that everything changed
Of all the memories from that time, there's one that seems to be clearer than most, a memory they didn't share with me until a few years ago.
It was my first-ever cystic fibrosis specialist appointment.
The doctor sat my parents down a minute after first meeting them and delivered one of the coldest and most shattering prognoses a parent could ever hear — "Your son would be better off with a terminal illness that would kill him or he'd miraculously get over - cystic fibrosis will ruin his life".
He delivered the statement with such certainty, like he was holding a crystal ball and could see my future mapped out before his eyes.
Yet, after hearing those harsh words, my parents told the doctor, "You will never see us or our son again".
Their reply was a statement of hope and positivity.
Without evidence, that's all they had to hold on to.
They refused to believe that my disease would limit or define my life or that I would be the prisoner of a hospital bed.
They believed I was destined for great things.
How positivity changed my life
Brad didn't let cystic fibrosis get in the way of his goals and excelled in sport as a young man. Source: SBS
I excelled in any sport I set my sights on and despite taking 50 tablets a day and undergoing a rather lengthy physio routine, I was the picture of perfect health.
That was until the disease landed its first jab.
One cough away from death
I was just 18 when I thought I was dying.
After a week of being particularly unwell, I had spent my Saturday morning violently coughing before a particularly sharp cough was followed by the taste of blood in my mouth.
As a result of my liver disease, I had become susceptible to the forming of oesophageal varices (enlarged veins in the oesophagus) and had routine surgery to remove them before they were at risk of rupturing. If they ruptured and I was not treated urgently, it could be deadly.
Despite the operation, doctors warned me if I was ever to cough up blood, I needed to go to the hospital emergency department immediately.
The first taste of blood sent me running for the laundry sink and was followed by the immediate urge to keep coughing, from which lots of blood followed.
I couldn't help but stare at the blood pooling in the sink and wonder if this was how I would die.
Racing with my dad to the hospital, I looked at him and wondered if he was going to helplessly watch his son take his final breaths. I called my mum and sister who were together that day and told them I loved them.
I couldn't help but wonder if I would ever see them again.
Thankfully, after presenting at emergency we found that the bleeding had stopped, it was coming from my lungs and was the result of a heavy infection.
My close call with death changed me
On that day I knew that cystic fibrosis would feel different to how it had before.
I was now in the fight of my life, not for 12 rounds but likely for the rest of time.
It was the first of a few health crises that followed in the next six years, most the result of highly damaging infections causing my lungs to bleed and sending me to the hospital, all of which taught me an incredible lesson in the form of a Confucius quote: "Every man lives two lives, the second begins when he realises he has just one".
Brad having treatment in hospital for symptoms of cystic fibrosis. Source: SBS
Death is my teacher
Having experienced the fragility of life, the concept of death has become a wonderful teacher.
At the start of the year, I released a podcast episode in which I wrote and read my own eulogy.
It was a highly emotional experience that encouraged me to think about what a fulfilling life looks like for me.
Writing my eulogy was an incredibly difficult task, forcing me to sit and reflect on how much my family and partner mean to me. To write about what potentially could be a life cut short and how my loved ones would be affected by my passing was a sobering experience, and makes me appreciate the people around me even more.
I've become deeply passionate about the art of podcasting having shared conversations with some of the globe's most influential athletes, entrepreneurs, thought leaders and storytellers in over 215 episodes.
I have run three marathons and an ultra-marathon, raising over $120,000 for the research, development and advocacy of life-saving drugs for Cystic Fibrosis Australia.
I now share my story and the lessons it has afforded me at conferences and schools across Australia as a keynote speaker.
But more importantly, I love harder and hold my partner, family and friends closer.
For me, death gives meaning to life.
